On the Back Burner
by GetWithIt
Summary: SI/OC fic ideas that I'll update slowly and erratically between the regular updates for Swordplay.
1. A Stark Contrast(preview)

_A/N: Here's a 1335 word preview of the first chapter of the Tony Stark's daughter/SI. If you want me to continue this story, please go to my profile and vote for it in the poll posted._

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><p><strong>Intro - Recollections<strong>

My first life – the brutally short one – ended when I was sixteen years old.

The woman who had been my mother had me at twenty-seven. I was her second child; a little girl with a brother three years my elder.

My birth itself was startlingly quick. My mother used to joke that I couldn't get out fast enough. With most babies, the doctor will slap their bottoms so that they cry out and start breathing. With me, I was wailing the moment my head cleared the birthing canal. I squirmed and flailed shaking fists the moment I was fully free, still screaming all the while.

Despite my rather aggressive entry into the world I was ironically enough a very quiet and well-behaved baby. I don't remember either my birth or my infancy of course, but my parents brought it up often enough that the facts stayed with me.

Aside from things like that – things that were reiterated so frequently over the course of my life that it was impossible to _not_ know them – I don't recall much of my 'original' incarnation.

I remember how to read and write in English. I remember how to add, subtract, divide, and multiply. I remember what it's like to be mature. I remember that my reserved nature made it hard to have more than a few close friends. I remember books, movies, and songs that I really liked – not perfectly of course, but well enough.

The things I don't remember are far more numerous. I don't remember the names of my teachers or neighbors. I don't remember more than a few random facts from history. I don't remember my favorite foods, conversations I had, the places I went, or the faces of the people I knew.

The fact of the matter is, I can only remember things on an intellectual level. For example, I know that my mother had green eyes, but I can't even begin to imagine what they looked like. I know that George Washington was the first U.S. president, but I've no idea where or when I actually learned that.

The only thing I remember with absolute clarity is my death. I drowned. I remember the panic and the murkiness of the water around me in my last moments. Even today, I still have nightmares of my last day on earth.

That's probably the only reason why the memories have yet to fade.

How can I possibly forget my first life when I'm reminded each and every time I wake up screaming?

Of course, it could just be a quirk of fate that left the memories within my young mind. The memories could be a delusion created by an overactive imagination or something else entirely. They may not even be my own – perhaps some lost spirit imprinted their life upon my unborn soul. Maybe I was a lost spirit and I unwittingly took over the body of a stillborn, maybe I merged with the soul in this body, or maybe the universe just decided I should have the knowledge of a lifetime I never lived.

The fact of the matter is, I'll probably never know. I could guess and hypothesize till I'm blue in the face but it won't change the fact that I'm here now and this is my life.

It's not as bad as it sounds. I mean, yeah, I've got all these memories of another life, but like I mentioned before – they're not complete. I don't feel more than a faint nostalgia for the family and friends I had.

The closest comparison I can think of is the way you feel about the characters in a book. When you start reading you find yourself rooting for certain characters, crying at sad scenes and laughing at the happy ones. By the end of the story you'll feel almost as though you know them.

And there's the keyword. _Almost._

Because no matter what I remember, it wasn't _me_ who knew these people. It was my previous incarnation. The story's over. I can think back on it fondly, but I'm not going to waste my life pining for what may or may not have even been real.

I probably sound callous, but it's not as though I don't have a new life to focus on. Besides, I didn't even understand the memories until I developed my sense of self, and by then, they'd already faded even more. There's just too much… distance, I suppose.

At least, there was, until the day I realized my two lives were not so unrelated as I thought.

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><p>Amelia stared into her mom's pale green eyes and desperately tried to come up with a believable lie. "I was just," she inhaled discretely and prayed her mom didn't notice the slight hesitation. "Testing myself," she finished lamely.<p>

"Testing yourself?" Amelia winced at her mother's incredulous tone.

"Well, yeah – I mean, yes!" She was quick to backtrack when her mother scowled at her use of a colloquial. "I thought it seemed like a cool skill to have and it gave me the option of going into IT when I'm older. I did some research and started learning about firewalls and countermeasures and got a little caught up. I wasn't planning on actually using it," she was quick to assure her mom, "But I felt pretty confident that I could if I wanted to.

"After a while," Amelia continued, "Just thinking I could wasn't enough. I wanted to be sure I wasn't wrong about my skill level."

"But you were."

Amelia licked her lips nervously and nodded. "I was."

Her mom groaned. "Sometimes I can't believe how ridiculous you are, Mia." The thirty-six year old woman tiredly rubbed at her face with her hands. "Okay, here's what we're going to do – we're going to go back out there and apologize to those men. You're going to tell them that you didn't realize what you were doing was as bad as it was. You can tell them that you'd seen it in a movie and wanted to try it out yourself. We'll tell them we're prepared for whatever the consequences are, be it a fine or whatever else they come up with. Got it?"

"Yes ma'am," Amelia said. She opened the door and let her mom pass through before following her downstairs and into the living room, all the while thanking every higher power she could think of. What she'd told her mom wasn't a lie, at least, not entirely. The only parts that weren't strictly true were the bits about testing herself and never planning on actually using it.

She'd always planned on using it. In fact, Amelia had been hacking for over a year. She'd started small and been very careful, never leaving any signs of her presence. As she grew more confident in her abilities she took more risks and made her way through increasingly difficult cyber security. Sure, testing herself was a part of it, but mostly she thought it was fun and she liked knowing things.

Sneaking through backdoors to get at classified information was an excellent way to know things - especially things she wasn't supposed to know...

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><p><em>AN: The two parts above would actually be separated into two distinct chapters. For this fic, I'd write brief snippets in first person that would be placed sporadically throughout the entire thing (the rest would obviously be in limited third person)._


	2. Reality Check(preview)

_**A/N: **So here's my brief intro to the HP insert I have planned. This Harry would remember being a girl, but still identify as entirely male, since he's obviously more Harry than whoever he'd been before. I do think I'll have him be a bit smoother with the ladies though, prior experience with a girl's mind would be an excellent excuse!_

_If you like this or one of my other insert ideas please go to my profile and vote for the one you'd like to see written first!_

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><p>Harry gently eased his cupboard door open and glanced about for his relatives. When no one immediately jumped out to yell at him, the nine year old deemed it safe to exit. He shuffled quietly through the house in his too big pajamas and made it to the kitchen with very little fanfare.<p>

From there, Harry proceeded to fasten himself a sandwich. He was careful not leave any crumbs and made sure to put everything back exactly where he'd found it. Then, he crept as quickly and quietly as he could to the back door, letting himself out into the backyard.

Harry released a sigh of relief as soon as the door shut behind him. He'd been waiting all day for some time to himself. During the school year he spent most of his days out of the house and away from his relatives, but in the summer he was stuck spending day after day under his aunt's watchful eye. It wouldn't be so bad, were it not for the blatant mistrust and suspicion she regarded him with.

Mildly irritated at the thought of his overbearing aunt, Harry bit into his sandwich angrily. He'd tried to leave the house to play on two separate occasions in the past week and both times she'd forced him to stay in and do chores instead. He usually didn't mind the mundane things she had him do, but Harry had been dying for some time away from disapproving eyes – there was only so much of his "family" that he could take.

Harry shook his head. He didn't want to spend his free time thinking about his relatives. Instead he lay on his back and gazed at the few visible stars in the sky between bites of his sandwich. When he finished eating, he brushed the crumbs off and sat up. He was pleased to note the lingering hunger he'd felt since dinner had finally disappeared.

_I hope I actually grow a few inches soon – even the girls are taller than me now, _Harry thought somewhat morosely. He'd been constantly hungry lately – hopefully a sign of an upcoming growth spurt – but realized the futility of asking for seconds at mealtimes pretty early on. His aunt made sure he ate what was required for his health and nothing more. It was a far cry from how she treated her own son, whom she always insisted was 'a growing boy'.

_Growing horizontally maybe,_ Harry thought with an uncharitable snicker.

A rustle to his left had Harry jerking his head to the side and stiffening up, only for him to relax when he saw a dark gray cat. "Hey there, little guy," Harry whispered. He'd recognized the cat as one of Mrs. Figg's, but beyond knowing it was male, couldn't recall anything else about it. Holding out his fingers for the cat to sniff, he hoped it was one of the friendlier ones.

Fortunately for him, the cat merely rubbed his hand with its face and sat down beside him. "You know," Harry stated in a low voice as he read the name on the cat's collar, "I've always really liked cats, though if I ever owned one I'd name you something a lot better than Mr. Paws."

The cat ignored him, seemingly content to sit beside his leg and rest. Harry stopped talking, choosing to lie back down in the grass and think. His mind, as it usually did when he found himself alone and having nothing to do, drifted towards the indistinct memories he had of his previous life. Or at least, what he assumed was his previous life.

For as long as he could remember, Harry had had these memories floating around in his head. He didn't understand at first, thought they were memories left over from the brief time spent with his late parents. Then, when he became old enough to realize the fact that he was older, and most definitely _not_ _Harry_ in the memories, he thought they were daydreams of a sort. It wasn't until he entered school and overheard a conversation about religion between two older students that he considered reincarnation. He'd gone to a teacher to ask about the meaning of the word and gotten answers to more than what he expected.

Finally, he'd had some sort of explanation. He didn't share his theory, already aware that beyond his basic needs, his aunt and uncle wanted nothing to do with him. Instead, he kept it to himself to ponder over when he had free time.

Even when he made friends, Harry didn't bother telling anyone he thought he'd lived another life. Why should he when it didn't make a difference? He was still Harry, not whoever he'd been before. Teachers called him mature and a quick study, but he had no way of knowing whether that was a result of his unusual situation, or just the way he was. Other than as a reference point, the memories he had were pretty inconsequential.

He didn't even think about it all that often. It would occasionally come to mind when he was on his own for long stretches or when something specific brought up a memory, but even then it was usually fleeting. Along the lines of: _Oh, I think I learned about that in my past life, _or_ my sister had hair like that… _and then he'd be thinking about something else.

All in all, Harry considered it a quirk – akin to being able to wiggle your ears. And you didn't go around telling others you could wiggle your ears, so why would he tell others about something he considered just as pointless and irrelevant?

He fingered the odd scar at the center of his forehead. _Although, _Harry allowed, _I might have to consider it a little more significant if I do turn out to be some sort of wizard. _He hadn't really thought about it until recently, but his name, along with his scar, were eerily reminiscent of a character in a book series he could only vaguely recall from his first life. The few times something had jogged that memory, he'd only spared a thought for, 'oh, what a coincidence' and left it at that.

He knew that the life he remembered took place in the future, so he'd just assumed that he'd had the name before the series came out. Now, he had to consider the possibility that the series wouldn't ever be written, at least, not in his world.

There was really no other choice, not after he'd spent nearly a full minute hovering above the ground. He'd fallen from the tree he'd been climbing and closed his eyes in fear as he plummeted to the ground.


	3. Gwen Stacy(preview)

**_A/N: _**_SI/OC-insert as Gwen Stacy. One of eight insert fics I have planned, if you like this or another of my ideas please go to my profile and vote for the one you'd most like to read._

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><p>Summary: Gwen doesn't remember much about her former life, but what she does remember is driving her crazy. There's no way her boyfriend could be <em>Spiderman<em>, is there?

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><p>"Hey, Gwen! I really like you – will you go out with me?" Startled, I turned around to face the boy who'd spoken. He was fairly tall, with dorky glasses and messy brown hair. "No, that sounds stupid…" he muttered, still not looking up from the floor as he shoved the books from his locker into his backpack.<p>

I had to press a hand to my mouth to avoid laughing out loud. _He's too cute!_ I thought with mirth. The teen seemed to be completely oblivious to my presence, at least, until he slammed his locker shut and turned to face me.

_Oh, _I thought, somewhat startled. _It's Peter. _I had a couple classes with him, but only sat next to him in AP Biology. We spent most classes reviewing together, since we both had the somewhat obsessive need to read ahead. When we weren't reviewing, I'd try not to laugh aloud at the increasingly snarky quips he'd mutter under his breath during lectures. Needless to say, our teacher didn't like us much.

"Uh, hi," he said. "How long have you been standing there?"

Grinning, I answered. "Since you asked me out."

"Oh man, that's, uh, that's so awkward…" he coughed. "I'm just gonna go, um, die in a hole or something." With that, he spun on his heel and made to walk off.

"Hold on a second Peter! Aren't you going to wait for my answer?"

He stopped and turned around. "That depends," he said, "Is that a yes?"

Feeling flattered, and more than a bit giddy, I leaned forward and kissed him square on the mouth. I pulled back a few inches and raised an eyebrow. "Does that answer your question Peter?"

For a long moment he just gaped at me and I tried not to flush too noticeably. Suddenly, he smirked. "If that's a no," he said slowly, "Do you think you could tell me again? I'm not sure I understood you the first time."


	4. Claire Banner(preview)

**_A/N_**_: Here's a really short preview for the Bruce Banner's daughter SI - I'd do more but this one hops right into the action much sooner and I'd rather not put that out in a preview. If you like this one, or another of my 8 possible SI stories, please go to my profile and vote in my poll for whichever one you'd like to see written._

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><p><em>This can't be happening. It's a dream. There's no way - <em>

"Claire? Are you feeling okay?" Oh no, Bruce sounded worried.

Without looking up Claire nodded into her dad's neck. "'M just tired," she mumbled. Like she hoped, her answer appeased him and the tension seemed to melt from his shoulders.

"I'm sorry, I know it's late," he apologized as he gently lowered her to the ground. "Just pack up your things and you'll be able to go back to sleep once we're on the jet."

In a daze, Claire followed his directions, shoving her clothes and toiletries into her backpack. When she finished her dad took her hand and led her out of the tiny room they'd been renting and back to the woman who shouldn't exist.

"Alright Miss Romanoff, lead on." As they walked, Claire took the time study the cause of her latest existential crisis. Natasha Romanoff was, without a doubt, a beautiful woman. She had soft red hair, clear skin, and large blue eyes, but she was_ not_ Scarlett Johansson. She supposed it only made sense, her dad looked nothing like his movie-counterpart.

_Why am I seriously considering this? My dad __doesn't turn into a giant green monster, I would definitely notice something like that._

Though that didn't explain the redhead's name, her dad's name, or even what was happening now.

_My god, I think I'm in a movie. I've finally lost it. Of course I haven't been reborn. These past few years must be some coma-induced hallucination._

Claire didn't pay much attention as a man in a tight-fitting black uniform strapped her in next to her dad. Almost immediately after the jet took of she closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep so she could think.

_A dream or hallucination doesn't really explain the clarity of thought or the passing of time. Besides, I dream at night, this isn't _Inception_, I don't think it's possible to dream within a dream. _

_Of course, if I was able to accept the impossibility of being reborn, why does the universe in which I've been reincarnated in matter? Stranger things have literally already happened. Who's to say this universe isn't real just because it reminds me of a movie I can barely remember from my first life..._

Eventually Claire's thoughts began to move in circles. She went from thinking herself insane to accepting her situation as reality four times before deciding to actually go to sleep. She clearly wouldn't come to a conclusion any time soon, rest would only help. And if it didn't, well, at least she'd be able to argue with herself without a headache driving her to insanity.

_Who am I kidding? I've been insane for _years_. A measly headache isn't going to make much of a difference._


	5. Chapter 5

Just a heads up! Wildfire (the fem!Loki strory) has been removed from onthebackburner. It's now it's own story and no longer a SI/OC insert.


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